


His Angel Watching Over Him

by bluejorts



Series: Guardian Angels 'Verse [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Kid Dean Winchester, Kid Sam Winchester, M/M, Wee!chesters, kid jimmy novak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-17
Updated: 2014-09-11
Packaged: 2018-02-13 13:30:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 6,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2152521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluejorts/pseuds/bluejorts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He entered the hotel room, hearing the curtains flutter he sighed and moved to shut the windows. They were already shut, rusted latches holding fast. Odd. He shrugged and turned around- walking straight into a boy not much older than himself, meeting blue eyes and tousled dark brown hair.</p><p>"Who the-" He was cut off by a hand over his mouth, impossibly strong.</p><p>"My name is Castiel, I'm here to protect you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ten

Dean soon got bored of the soccer ball, he decided to go inside, it wasn't like Sammy was gonna spontaneously combust so he figured it was okay to leave his brother where he was.

He entered the hotel room, hearing the curtains flutter he sighed and moved to shut the windows. They were already shut, rusted latches holding fast. Odd. He shrugged and turned around- walking straight into a boy not much older than himself, meeting blue eyes and tousled dark brown hair.

"Who the-" He was cut off by a hand over his mouth, impossibly strong.

"My name is Castiel, I'm here to protect you." The boy told him, removing his hand and lowering it to his side. He was nose to nose with Dean, and the other boy was backed up against the counter, back against the cold wood.

"What?" Dean asked, breath ghosting over Castiel's lips.

"My name is Castiel, I'm an angel of the Lord." Castiel said, "I'm here as your guardian angel." 

Dean pushed him away and looked the boy over skeptically, his blue eyes were hard, and as light as a summer sky, mesmerizing, beautiful, loyal; his hair didn't seem like it could lie flat; his clothes, a white polo shirt and short, tan slacks, his feet were bare. 

"Angel?" He asked. The boy nodded, "Prove it."

The lights flickered and the air around them became metallic, like just before a storm, the curtains flapped in the wind and Dean grabbed the counter to steady himself.

His eyes widened as shadows unfurled behind Castiel, dwarfing them both, wings.

"Holy crap." Dean gaped, "You really are an angel."

"Yes, I am." Castiel confirmed. 

"So you're here to protect me?" Dean asked, crossing his arms and puffing himself out to look bigger than the scrawny boy. 

"Yes, I am." Castiel nodded, face void of emotion.

"Dude, you're creepy." Dean decided, "But 'cha have pretty eyes." He added, as an afterthought. 

"Sorry, and thank you." Castiel nodded, still emotionless. 

"So, you just gonna stand there?" Dean asked. Castiel's face gained an emotion, confusion. "Don't you wanna sit down or something? Are ya hungry?"

Castiel shook his head, but took a seat on Dean's bed, back straight, feet hanging, limp. Dean stared at him for a few moments, before deciding that the other boy wasn't going anywhere and turning to start on dinner.

After a few minutes Dean's bed squeaked, he whipped around, nearly cricking his neck and startling Castiel, who had just crossed his legs on the bed.

"Are you alright?" The angel asked, cocking his head. 

"Yeah, just, uh, twitchy."

Castiel frowned, "Twitchy?"

Dean nodded, turning to face the angel and leaning back on the counter next to the stove. "Nervous."

"Why?"

"Cause I don't know you."

"Yes, you do. My name is Cast-"

"Yeah but I don't  _know_ you."

"I am confused." Castiel admitted. 

Dean sighed, "What I mean is you come in here all 'I'm an angel, look I got wings t' prove it', and you could be anyone."

"But I told you, I'm an angel."

"Yeah and I'm Elvis Presley."

"No, you're Dean Winchester."

"Yeah, exactly, just cause you say you're someone don't mean you are."

"I believe that I understand now. But I am an angel, and I was sent here to protect you, Dean."

"I can protect myself just fine. I don't need some angel."

Castiel seemed hurt, and Dean felt sorry for the guy, but before he got a chance to apologize, the angel had disappeared in a flutter.

He sighed, and got back to the meal, by now the rice was over saturated and sticky, great. Just great.


	2. Twelve

"Up and at 'em Sammy!" Dean grinned, opening the door to his brother's room.

Sam didn't stir. 

Dean frowned, then smirked. 

"Dean." Castiel warned, recognizing that look for what it was, one that was not to be trusted. Over the past two years, Castiel had been appearing more and more frequently to Dean, and it was only now that the boy had set aside his Winchester stubborn solidarity and let the angel stick around. He still, however, didn't respect him.

He made his way across the room, shivering slightly, it was always colder in here, in fact, it always seemed to be colder when Sam was there, weird. Turning the volume knob on the radio to full, he switched it on, wincing at the volume. 

Sam groaned. Dean laughed. Cas sighed. 

"Shuddup." Sam ordered, voice muffled as he shoved his face into the pillow.

"Rise and shine Sammy."

Sam turned his head away from Dean for a second, then flipped around and shot him a glare that would've been threatening if he wasn't a little kid and his eyes were fully open.

"Shuddup." He repeated, but deigned to get up.

"C'mon Sammy, Uncle Bobby says we can go to the park today." Dean grinned.

"A'right." Sam conceded, ruffling his greasy hair. The younger Winchester grabbed a towel from the end of his bed and stumbled, tiredly, to the shower, feet dragging. 

"That was not a very nice thing to do." Castiel scolded. 

Dean stuck his tongue out at the angel and bounced onto Sam's bed, pulling a hackey sack out of his pocket. "His fault for not being up." He smirked.

Castiel sighed and rolled his eyes, used to the boys playful fighting by now. He wondered over to the window, and hoisted himself up to sit on the ledge.

"Here, catch." Dean offered, throwing the ball to his angel. Cas caught it easily, and examined it, the pattern of faded, red and blue stripes on the well worn material. It''d been a gift from uncle Bobby, a year and a half ago. John had scoffed when he'd seen it, and refused to play with his son. He threw the ball back to Dean, who caught it in one hand and threw it back with the other. 

It soon became a competition, the boy and the angel throwing faster and harder each time, until the sound of the shower stopped and a door opened down the hall. Dean then kept the ball to himself and merely threw it at the ceiling.

"Get out, poop head." Sam whined. Dean rolled his eyes, wow, his little brother was just so  _mature_! 

"You're such a girl." He snickered, but strode out all the same. 

"I don't understand how wanting privacy makes him a girl." Cas frowned. 

"It don't, I'm just bein' a brother." Dean whispered, putting an arm around his angel's shoulders now that he knew nobody could see him.

It was a twenty minute drive to the park, and Dean was bored, Sam was daydreaming, as always, and Bobby had some terrible country music on in the background. Castiel didn't see any reason to traveling by car when he could fly.

When they finally reached the park all two acres of it was surprisingly empty. Dean stood with Bobby and watched Sam run off.

The older man chuckled. "Go on, have fun, I ain't gonna stop you." The hunter said, pushing Dean lightly forwards. "Make some friends." 

Dean looked up at his adopted uncle and grinned, "Thanks Bobby." He nodded, before running off to the opposite end of the field, where he knew that, behind the bushes, there was a river that was perfect for fishing in. He'd made a makeshift fishing rod the last time he was down here, out of a branch, three meters or so of string, and a bent nail, but he'd only ever caught one fish, and even then he'd had to put it back. But now, now he had an entire day at his disposal, and an angel. Speaking of, he saw the blue eyed boy in his peripheral vision, running alongside him, a small, awkward smile on his lips, as if he wasn't quite sure why he was enjoying this so much, and that amused him. 

When they reached the bushes and clambered through, Dean was breathing heavily and Castiel watched him regain his breath. Dean remembered the first time the angel had seen him like that, he'd been alarmed, and had tried to heal him, while asking again and again what was wrong, which had been quite entertaining. 

"C'mon, I wanna fish." Dean grinned, once he could breathe normally again. He grabbed the angel's hand and pulled him through the small wooded area, until they reached the water. Dean pulled his fishing rod out of the trunk of a fallen tree and began digging around for worms. Cas watched in confused amusement, perched on a log that overlooked the river. 

"Gotcha!" Dean exclaimed, pulling up a fat, stubby worm. He speared it on the 'hook' and cast into the water, before joining Cas on the log. 

They sat in amiable silence for a while, before Dean spoke up.

"What's heaven like?"

For a brief moment, pain flashed across Castiel's face, before it was replaced by the usual, emotionless expression he usually possessed. "Cluttered." He said, after a moment.

"Whadda ya mean?" Dean frowned.

"I mean it's cluttered." Castiel barked. Dean flinched, too used to the tone that Cas was using.

"Sorry." He muttered, looking out and into the trees.

"It's alright. Heaven is, it's a sensitive topic." The angel sighed. Dean put a hand on his friend's shoulder, looking at the angel. Cas turned towards him, bright eyes meeting Dean's. They smiled and stared, until a tug on Dean's line caught his attention.

"Oh! I got something!" He exclaimed, dropping the stick and running to pull the string in. There was an excited glint in his eyes that was rarely seen, and it caused Castiel to smile, which was even more of a rarity.


	3. Fourteen

Dean hated school, he hated learning, hated meeting new people just to leave them behind, hated the crowded hallways.

He also hated having to go to a new school every freaking week.

Castiel, however, didn't quite understand what all the fuss was about - as per usual when it came to anything human. 

"Don't get in trouble, I'll call in every few days." John ordered. 

"Yessir." Sam mumbled, Dean just nodded firmly, meeting his fathers eyes in the rear view mirror.

He hopped out of the car, waved at his dad as Sam scampered off to the reception, and waited for Cas to show.

The slight rustle of wings and buffering of air signaled his friend's arrival. "I do not understand why you insist I enroll at every school with you." The angel huffed.

Dean chuckled, "I'd be bored otherwise." He admitted, smiling genuinely and throwing an arm over his angel's shoulder. Cas glanced at him, eyes sparkling. Dean knew that the angel secretly loved enrolling at schools, it gave him a chance to examine and be part of human life.

The boy and the angel walked up to the reception, by now, Sam had been taken off to his class, so the room was empty. The receptionist didn't look up when the door swung shut, and she continued to focus her attention on the computer when the boys approached the desk. 

Dean coughed. She ignored him. 

He sighed, " 'Scuse me." He grunted. She looked up, fixing the boys with a plastic smile.

"Ah, what can I do for you, boys?"

"We're new. Dean and Castiel Winchester." 

"Alrighty then." The woman's false smile slipped away as she looked through papers. "Winchester, Whichester, ah! Here you are." The smile was back, as she handed them timetables and maps. "Y'all have a nice day!" 

Dean grabbed the papers, shooting the lady a smile that was more false than the colour of her hair. He grabbed Cas' hand and pulled the angel from the room.

"I have a bad feeling about this one." The human muttered. 

Castiel said nothing, but his grip on Dean's hand tightened as they entered their first class. 

And despite all the odd looks, Dean kept his angel's hand in his until they sat down. 


	4. Sixteen

"Dean! We cannot just leave Sam alone." Castiel hissed, pulling the teen into the nearest empty room.

"Why not?" Dean responded, "Kid can look after himself." 

"But if John finds out-"

"Fuck him." Dean snarled, "I wanna be a normal teenager for one night."

"And that means going to this party and becoming inebriated?" 

"Yeah! It does." 

"Dean-" 

"What? Cas?" Dean growled, crowding the angel against the nearest table. "Do I not deserve to be a normal kid for once?"

Castiel looked sheepish, eyes flicking around Dean's face, anywhere but his eyes.

"No - I just, I'm worried about Sam, that's all." Cas muttered, eyes finally coming to rest, still not on Dean's eyes, but his mouth.

Dean licked his lips, "I told you, Cas." He said, voice softer, as he moved a few steps back. Cas' eyes finally met his. "Sammy'll be just fine."

Castiel nodded, and his eyes stayed on Dean's.


	5. Eighteen

Dean watched Sam walk into school, meeting some blonde kid that seemed a little too familiar, before turning towards where he was sure Cas would be. He was right.

"Can we go somewhere?" He asked.

"You didn't do the maths homework." Castiel said, unimpressed.

Dean shook his head, not even embarrassed, "Nope." He shrugged.

"Then no." The angel said, walking towards the gates.

"Aww, c'mon man, just this once?"

"That's what you always say."

Though Dean couldn't deny this, he didn't really care. "I'll be good, next three schools I won't even ask."

Cas considered this, "Six." He decided.

"Five."

"Deal."

"Awesome."

The human grabbed his angel's hand and dragged him around a corner, where there were no people.

"Where would you like to go?"

"Uh, somewhere hot, and sandy." Dean grinned, "And foreign."

Castiel's eyes lit up, "I believe I know exactly the right place."

Dean beamed, grabbed both Cas' hands, prepared for the jolt that signaled flight and shut his eyes. His stomach flipped sickeningly, and he waited for it to stop turning before opening his eyes. 

His jaw dropped when he did. All around him was white sand. There were exotic trees scattered around the beach, and when he turned around there was ocean. The sea was as blue as Castiel's eyes, the sky light, not a cloud to be seen. His clothes were already beginning to stick to his skin, and he shed his jacket and shirt before beaming at his angel and wrapping him in a hug.

"Thanks man." He mumbled into Cas' shoulder.

"You're welcome." The angel said back, solemn.

Dean got back late that night, skin tinged pink, hair slightly damp. Sam didn't seem to notice.


	6. Twenty

Sam was driving him mad. He was stressed and snappy. It got to the point where the kid would stay up half the night walking around the room (Dean only knew about this because he'd woken once at two in the morning and lain there for an hour listening to Sam walking a trench into the motel floor.

He'd had enough. He'd gone out for the night, Sam was old enough to look after himself, and Dean  _really_ needed some time alone - and by that he obviously meant drinking. He had fake ID, not that he ever got asked for it. 

It was only after about four pints and five shots of something strong that tasted like disinfectant, that Cas appeared. 

"You should be looking after Sam." The angel pointed out, accusingly.

"He can look after 'imself." Dean shrugged, downing another shot and making a face at the taste.

"You really should not be drinking." Cas acknowledged, but made no move to stop him. Dean stuck his tongue out, it seemed like a reasonable response. He decided that he needed another beer, and hailed the bartender, ordering one for himself, and one for Cas. The angel accepted the beverage and sipped it as Dean finished his in a few gulps.

"See, the thing is 'bout Sammy, is he can take care of 'imself jus' fine, but I always feel like he's my responsibility."

Cas frowned, "I suppose I can relate to that. Being as I was ordered to watch over you, and yet you are perfectly able to watch over yourself." The angel sighed, and downed the rest of his beer in one. "I believe we've outgrown our use to our charges." He sounded upset about this, and Dean decided he needed a hug. The hunted reached out and pulled his angel towards him, forgetting the creature's inhuman strength and ability to become a freaking statue.

Long story short, Dean ended up sitting in a rather startled Cas' lap, to his own surprise.

"Oh." He said, as he looked his angel in the eye, "That di'nt go like planned."

Castiel shook his head in agreement, Eyes all over Dean's face. Dean shrugged and hugged the other anyway, unaware of the looks they were being sent.

"I think we should go." Cas decided.

"Nope." Dean shook his head, buried in Cas' neck, "Don' wan' Sammy t' see me like this."

Cas sighed and pushed Dean off his lap, the hunter made an indignant noise as he did so. The angel pulled his charge out of the bar and into an alley. 

"Which motel are you staying at."

"Uh, Th' Trav'ler's R'st."

They were outside the motel before Dean had a chance to catalogue the feeling of nausia, "Wait right here." The angel ordered.

"Yessir." Dean saluted, giggling. 

Castiel strode into the 'reception' purposefully, and strode out equally so. He grabbed Dean yet again, to pull him towards the room he'd booked, and the hunter muttered something about likin' it rough. 

Cas laid Dean down on the bed, "Sleep." He ordered, sitting beside the hunter.

"Nope, don' wanna." Dean pouted, "Lie w'me."

Cas sighed, but lay down all the same, letting Dean snuggle into his side. The hunter sighed, contentedly. "I love you." He admitted solemnly. Castiel stiffened, not sure what the man meant. 

Before he decided what to answer, Dean was snoring. Cas smiled softly, shifting so that his back was against Dean's chest. "And I you." He whispered.


	7. Twenty Two

When Sam had left, John had beat Dean for the first time in years. Now, a year and a bit on, in a morgue in Texas, a ghoul was doing it for him.

"What's the matter boy? Daddy not here to save you?" The creature mocked, in the form of some poor woman that could've been a freaking Olympic runner.

"No, but I am." Came a voice from behind her. The creature turned around, surprise and anger conflicting for dominance on her face, just in time to meet a sword-type weapon in the forehead.

"I had it under control." Dean grunted, dragging himself up off the linoleum floor, slick with his blood.

"That's not what it looked like." Cas frowned.

Dean huffed and assessed his injuries; one broken rib - ah, no, make that two, a split lip, dislocated wrist, half his face felt tender and would be bruised by tomorrow, his left leg had multiple cuts and bruises from where the ghoul had been 'playing' with him, plus other cuts on his back from where he'd been thrown through the ground floor window.

"Come here." Cas ordered, holding a hand out.

Dean sighed, "As long as you leave the bruises and some of the cuts." He nodded, then winced at the pain the action caused.

He limped towards the angel, who, seeing his struggle, met him halfway and held onto his arm to keep him upright, before placing his hand on the hunter's cheek. Dean felt immediately better, he was able to breathe, moving in general no longer hurt like a bitch, but he still had aches from the bruises peppering his body.

"Thanks, man." He muttered, looking Cas in the eye. The angel smiled awkwardly in response and flew them to the motel. The room was empty, John was out doing whatever, Sammy was still gone, and it didn't look likehe was coming back.

Dean sighed inwardly, deflated, at the thought of his brother.

"Cas, could ya magic us up a couple beers?" He asked, sitting down heavily atop the closest bed.

"I've told you before Dean, it isn't magic." Cas protested, but the beers appeared on the bedside table anyway, and the angel settled himself across from his charge.

As soon as Dean finished his first beer, another appeared in its place, then another, and another. Dean was good at holding his liquor, but after six beers even he was off his head.

"Y'know, y'r awesome, Cas." The hunter announced, "An y'r hot too."

Cas smirked, something he wouldn't usually do, but that felt appropriate, "You're very drunk, Dean." He pointed out.

"If I wa'nt then I wouldn't do this." Dean grinned, before reaching over and pulling himself onto Cas' lap, kissing the angel drunkenly. Castiel, startled, froze, allowing Dean's tongue - which was clumsy and large - to roam his mouth. When the human pulled at the blue tie he'd taken to wearing, Cas panicked, and flew out and away, to somewhere in England, in the countryside. It was raining (as it always is), but he didn't register it, just stood there, head spinning, trying to make sense of what just happened.

Back at the motel, Dean had fallen forwards onto the ratty sheets of the bed, and had not bothered to get up. It was quite comfy, actually, once you got past the itch and the smell of mildew, and he fell asleep quickly.

Waking up was hell. His head felt like a bomb had gone off, his eyes - when he managed to open them - couldn't deal with the light. He groaned, it seemed like the only thing he could do, and buried his head in the ratty sheets.

It was then that his brain caught up, and the memories of last night came flooding back.

He groaned again, but it caught in his throat as his lungs stopped working.

Cas.  _Fuck_.

What the hell had he done?!

"Cas?" He called, sitting up despite his head's protests. "Cas, man, I need to talk to ya."

As soon as the words had left his lips, Castiel was there, stood on the other side of the bed across from him.

"Hello, Dean." The angel murmured, staring intently at the floor, cheeks vaguely pink.

"Cas, look at me." Dean pleaded, and the angel's eyes met his.

He forgot what he was gonna say, what he was gonna do. He couldn't remember his excuse for his actions the night before. The only thing on his mind was Cas, was how goddamn beautiful his angel was. That was when he realised it.

"I love you." He muttered, barely loud enough to hear it himself, but plenty loud for an angel.

"Pardon?" Cas asked, brow furrowing.

"I love you." Dean announced, a grin breaking out on his lips.

"What?"

"I am in love with you. And I don't care what you think, or what anyone else thinks. I fuckin' love you."

Castiel's eyes widened comically, they seemed to be searching Dean's soul. A brief moment of indecision flickered on his face, but it was replaced by intent and something else. A moment later he was in front of Dean, nose inches away from the hunter's. He stood there for a second, bent over his charge, searching the man's eyes, before lunging forwards. He pulled Dean's lips to his, one hand in the hunter's hair, the other gripping his coat. Dean barely registered that the angel was sat in his lap, on his knees, almost pressed against him, in almost the exact same position as Dean had been in the night before, before he was kissing back fiercely.

"I love you too." The angel announced, pulling back only slightly. Dean answered with a rough kiss, all lust and heat and perfection. Cas was an amateur, but Dean taught him.

Later, as the he lay there, one arm around Cas' waist, holding him close, the other raking softly through the angel's hair, he realised what he'd seen in Cas' eyes earlier.

Desire. Something so animal, so human. Something most certainly not angel.


	8. Twenty Four

Dean had had to deal with a lot of mourners, but he'd never, ever had to deal with a mourning dog. Cecil was a three foot greyhound with tan fur, muddy eyes, and a rediculous attachment to his owner's dead body. 

Cecil belonged to a vampire.

"C'mon boy, step away from the corpse." John cooed, hands on his knees.

Dean sighed and straightened up from his own crouching position "I don't think it's gonna work." He admitted, "This thing's comitted, and vicious."

"Here puppy, puppy, puppy. C'mon ya mangy-"

"Dad." Dean interrupted, "We gotta just, shoot it, or something." 

John looked up at his son, surprised, Dean wasn't big on the whole killing animals thing, and it would usually be John's idea. He shrgged, "Sure, if you wanna." He nodded, "I'll go grab the gun."

Dean nodded, and John jogged back to the car, as soon as the man was out of sight, Castiel appeared.

"You cannot kill it." He protested. Dean jumped slightly at his angel's appearance, but covered it with a shrug. 

"Why not? It won't go away." 

Castiel squinted at Dean, his expression a mixture of annoyance and confusion, before he bent down, focused that expression on the dog, and barked. 

Dean watched in amazement as Cas and the dog had some kind of conversation, half barking, half growling. Cas, evidently, won, as the dog ran off, whimpering, tail between it's legs. 

Dean could hear his dad coming back, and he pulled his angel in for a quick kiss before the man got there, and Cas flew away.

"What happened?" John asked, when he noticed the dog's absence. 

"I growled at it a little, it ran off." Dean shrugged.

John shook his head, "Weird." He muttered.

"Me or the dog?" Dean asked, eyebrows raised, smirking.

John barked a laugh, a small smile on his lips, "You." He answered, "Now get that thing into the canal and let's be goin'."

Dean groaned, but helped his father lift the body and dump it into the canal, weighed down with rocks in its pockets and cement blocks tied around it's ankles. They poured gasoline over the wet blood and set it on fire, in the hopes that that would get rid of the evidence. And then they were off. 

"Fancy goin' out for a drink, son?" 

Dean almost winced, almost. "No, thanks, Dad." He replied, slightly too quickly. He glanced over to see John frown, looking almost hurt. It wasn't that Dean wouldn't love to have some quality time together, it was that John was a violent drunk, and Dean was usually the reciever of his violence. "But, uh, I think there's a match on tonight." He offered.

"Football?"

"Tennis."

John scoffed, "We ain't watchin' that pansy crap. That ain't no man's sport."

Dean resisted the urge to roll his eyes, nothing was a man's sport, to his dad, 'cept football. "Alright, then I think I'm gonna just catch some shut eye." 

"Ya sure?"

"Yeah."

"You gonna get your own room?"

"Yup."

And that was the end of that. John turned the radio up to full, and 'Enter Sandman' filled the car. All that could be heard for the rest of the journey was the sound of classic rock, and two men singing along, out of tune but uncaring. 


	9. Twenty Six - Part One

"Wanna tell me what you're doing here?" A voice sounded, amused, and the light flickered on, startling and temporarily blinding Dean. He let go of the fridge door and turned swiftly to face the owner. He began to come up with an excuse, thinking that he had the wrong house. "Sammy?" The guy called, the guy with dirty blonde hair and nothing on but a pair of red, skintight boxers. He almost sighed, so he did have the right place, but then who the hell was this guy?

"Getting a beer, who the hell are you." His eyes widened at the next thought that came to mind, "Is Sammy into dick now?" Their dad would have a heart attack, both his sons sleeping with blokes. "Man, the things college does to a guy."

The man smirked in a way that could only be described as devilish, crossing his arms, "No, he's got a girlfriend. I'm the guy that owns the house and looks after your little brother." Well, that was that question answered, and Dean would be damned if he didn't feel a little disappointed. 

"Luci, put on a shirt, will you?" Came Sam's voice, and a second later the rest of him entered, yawning. When he caught sight of his brother he stiffened, "Dean?" He asked, apparently torn between happiness and anger. 

"Yeah, it's me." Dean felt a grin slide onto his lips, "Hey, Sammy."

Sam stood statue still, unmoving.

A female voice sounded from down the hall. "Sam? Lucifer?" 

"Kitchen." The blonde yelled, eyes on Dean. 

Dean couldn't help it, he sniggered. "Lucifer? Like the devil?" He asked.

The man's reply, along with his broken grin, chilled Dean's blood, "You have no idea."

He shook it off as a girl entered, dressed scantily, and hot damn.

"So this is the girlfriend?" He grinned, "I gotta say, you are way outta my brother's league."

"You come for a reason Dean?" Lucifer asked, a dangerous, protective glint in his eyes.

"I gotta talk to Sam."

"I don't think so, you got something to say, you say it in front of all of us." Sam - finally acting like a human again - insisted stonily. 

Dean sighed and resisted the urge to roll his eyes, "Dad's on a hunting trip, and he hasn't been home in a few days."

Panic flared in Sam's eyes, "Jess, Lucifer, I ned to talk to Dean." He bit, through gritted teeth. A glare was sent in Lucifer's direction, and the other man held his hands up in surrender, smirking crookedly and winking. Sam dragged Dean outside, to the carefully mowed lawn. Their apple pie house, apparently paid for by a man named after the devil, and Sammy trusted this. 

"What the hell is this?" Sam glared, whisper-yelling.

"We gotta go find dad."

"I mean, come on. You can't just break in, middle of the night, and expect me to hit the road with you!" 

Dean almost stomped his foot like a two year old having a temper tantrum, "You're not hearing me, Sammy. Dad's missing. I need you to help me find him."

"You remember the poltergeist in Amherst? Or the Devil's Gates in Clifton? He was missing then, too. He's always missing, and he's always fine." 

Dean became quiet, thinking back, his heart sinking a little at the truth of what he was about to say, and what it might mean. "Not for this long." He muttered, then louder, "Now are you gonna come with me or not?"

"No." Sam sighed. 

"Why the hell not?"

"I'm done hunting, I can't do that, the moving, the killing, that's not me."

"It wasn't easy, yeah, but it wasn't that bad!"

"Dude! When I told Dad I was scared of the thing in my closet, he gave me a .45."

Dean shrugged, not seeing anything wrong with that, "Yeah? And?"

"I was nine years old!" Sam laughed, but there was no humor, just anger, "The guy was meant to tell me not to be afraid!"

Dean scoffed, "Yeah, like that woulda got you anywhere. Course you gotta be afraid, you know what's out there."

Sam sighed, his shoulders slumped slightly. "Yeah, I know, but the way we lived? Dad's obsession with finding the thing that killed mom? That wasn't childhood."

He paused, as if expecting Dean to say something. Dean didn't, he had nothing to say, no response to that.

"We still haven't found the damn thing." Sam reminded him, "So, what do we do? We kill everything else."

"We save people." Dean bristled. 

"So this is what you think Mom wanted?"

Dean rolled his eyes, oh, the guilt trip. It never worked. 

"Dean. We were raised like soldiers. Weapons training? Melting silver into bullets? Is that how you raise a kid?" 

"So what? You gonna live your happy little, normal, apple pie life?" 

"No. Not normal, safe."

"You ran away for that?" Dean looked away, anywhere but Sam, because if he kept looking that idiot in the eye he was gonna punch him.

"I ran away for college! I ran away because this is what I want. It was Dad who told me to stay gone, and I'm doin' a pretty good job of that."

Dean looked back at Sam, "Yeah? Well Dad's in trouble - if he ain't already dead."

Sam was silent, his gaze diverted to the floor.

"I can't do this alone." 

Sam scoffed, "Yeah, you can, that's what you've been training for your whole life."

It was Dean's turn to look down, "Yeah. But I don't want to." He said, softly.

Sam sighed, "What was he hunting?" 

Dean hid a grin, it wasn't a conformation, but it was damn near one. He led his brother out into the street, where the Impala was parked. He opened the boot, then the weapons compartment, digging around.

"C'mon, where did I put it."

"So Dad went off without you?"

"I was working another gig, this, uh, voodoo thing, in New Orleans."

"Dad let you go on a hunt alone?"

Okay that was just rude. Dean stopped his search and fixed his brother with a look of confused irritation, "Dude. I'm twenty six."

Sam held his hands up in surrender, stepping backwards, and there was a hint of a smirk on his lips. 

Dean went back to his search, and a couple seconds later, he pulled out a folder, triumphant. "Aha! There you are. So, Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago, this guy." He handed a sheet over to Sam. "They found his car, but he vanished. Completely MIA." 

He looked over to his brother, who was frowning and studying the paper.

"So? Maybe he was kidnapped."

"Yeah? Well, another in April." He declared, flicking through the remaining papers, "December 'oh-four, 'oh-three, 'ninety-eight, 'ninety-two, ten of them, over the past twenty years." 

He snatched the article from Sam, who gave him the classic 'hey! I was reading that' glare, and let his arms fall to his sides.

"All men, all the same five mile stretch of road."

He began to search the boot again, "So naturally, Dad wants to take a look. That was about three weeks ago, and I hadn't heard from him since, which was bad enough, but then-" He pulled a tape recorder from the mess in the boot, he really needed to sort that out. "This."

He played the recording, which was staticy and breaking up badly, but could be heard as: "Dean...something big is starting to happen...I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may... Be very careful, Dean. We're all in danger." If you listened hard enough.

"Y'know, there's EVP on that."

Dean grinned, there was his little brother! "Not bad, Sammy. Like riding a bike, huh?"

Sam's face fell, as if he didn't realise what he'd been doing. That was okay, Dean could work with that.

"All right. I slowed the message down, I ran it through a gold wave, took out the hiss, and this is what I got." Dean announced. 

He pressed play again, and this time, along with the drone of John's voice slowed down a hundred or so times, a female voice appeared, ghostly and hissing. 

"I can never go home." She whined.

"Never go home." Sam echoed, looking thoughful.

It was time for Dean to play the guilt card, "Look, Sam, in three- almost four years, I've asked nothing of you. I've left you be." 

Sam sighed, "Fine, I'll do it." 

Dean grinned like a kid in a candy store, Sam rresponded with a weak smile.


	10. Twenty Six - Part Two

The hunt was successful, and Dean got Sam home in time. Of course, he felt his heart sink as he watched Sam enter his house, meeting Lucifer at the door. 

It was longing that kept him there, and it was stubbornness that saved his brother. 

He refused to move until the lights were out in the bungalow, and thanks to that, he heard Sam's yell, saw smoke, and ran inside, nothing on his mind but Sam. 

Pulling his brother out of the house, he was shaking, he was tired, covered in soot, and scared. He was fucking terrified. 

What scared him even more was Sam, how he closed up. And it hurt that he had to rely on someone else to open him again. 

While his brother talked feelings with his friend, Dean locked himself in the car with the lights off and cried. 

He felt cold hands on his cheeks, and looked up, the hands guided his vision right, into the passenger seat, where Cas sat, looking upset and almost guilty.

"I'm sorry." The angel murmured.

Dean choked on a sob and pulled his angel in for a wet kiss. He didn't realise he was babbling into it until Cas started responding.

"I don't know." The angel said, over and over again, every time Dean asked why it always happened to Sam, or why he was never on time, or why the hell these things happened in general.

He just wanted his little brother to be happy, goddamn it.

But that looked like it might never happen.


End file.
